


White Lace

by theorchardofbones



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (briefly) - Freeform, F/F, Mutual Climax, Oral Sex, Pelna is not involved in the sex, Phone Sex, Scissoring, Vaginal Fingering, he is merely an unwitting bystander to the phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorchardofbones/pseuds/theorchardofbones
Summary: They’ve tried it so many ways, but it always seems to come back to this — Crowe on top, Luna giving in beneath her. The Oracle the public sees is elegant and dignified; it’s so sweet to make her unravel between the sheets.A phone call from Lunafreya during a spar with one of the Glaives turns into impromptu phone sex; it isn't long before Crowe shows up at the Oracle's door to give her a more hands-on treatment.





	White Lace

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the first f/f fic I've written in... well, I can't remember the last time. It felt only fitting to have it between these two gorgeous ladies.

Crowe lifts her hands and deftly ties her dark hair into a knot behind her head. Pelna is across the room, strapping up his knuckles with tape — they have the training room to themselves for an hour, so they’ll finally have the chance to get that spar in.

She stretches while she waits for him, shaking out her limbs and working out the kinks. She watches him spend entirely too long picking out a playlist for their session and, just when she thinks he’s ready, gives an exasperated sigh when he skips few the first few tracks.

When he’s finally done, they meet in the middle of the floor, standing a few feet apart.

‘Took you long enough,’ Crowe says, with a roll of her eyes. ‘You this precious in bed, too?’

Pelna snorts, but there’s a little heat under the ochre hue of his cheeks.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

He’s the first to strike. It’s not that he’s sloppy — they haven’t got a feel for each other yet, and she doubts if he was even trying to hit her in earnest when his fist glances harmlessly off her arm as she blocks.

‘Please,’ she says. She moves in a slow circle around him, keeping an eye on his footwork as she goes. ‘You couldn’t handle me.’

He lashes out again; this time she ducks under the blow, and throws her elbow into his gut. It should never have connected, but maybe he’s distracted — and can she blame him, really?

He stumbles back a couple steps, a little winded.

‘You talk tough, Crowe,’ he says, rubbing at the spot on his front. ‘A little birdy told me there’s a soft, squishy centre inside that tough exterior.’

She lets out a burst of sardonic laughter, and in her momentary lapse in concentration he takes full advantage and sweeps her legs out from under her with a kick.

She hits the floor, hard, with a flash of pain through her backside and her arm. To add insult to injury, when he offers his hand to help her up he’s wearing a cheesy, arrogant grin that she’d love nothing better than to wipe from his face.

‘It’s on,’ she says, rising to her feet without his help. ‘Just you wait, pretty boy.’

* * *

 

Her chest heaves as she rifles through her bag for her bottle of water.

She almost doesn’t hear her phone ringing over the pounding bassline of Pel’s music of choice; when she finally hears it, she waves a hand at him to turn it down and lifts the phone.

Luna’s name is on the screen, under the picture of her from her coronation as oracle. It had been a little bit of a joke — that of all the personal photos and selfies, of all the pictures they had taken together, the one Crowe set as Luna’s display picture was something she ganked from a Moogle search. The sight of Luna’s face, even in such an impersonal shot, makes her heart flip in her chest.

She clips the handsfree piece onto her ear and hits the green _Answer_ button, slipping her phone back into her bag.

‘Hey,’ she says.

 _‘Hey,’_ Luna says on the other end of the line. _‘Is this a bad time? I wasn’t sure if you were still on the clock.’_

‘I’m always on the clock,’ Crowe says with a snort. ‘I’m good to talk. Just mopping the floor with one of the Glaives.’

Pelna rolls his eyes, but he gets to his feet nonetheless. His dark hair is slick with sweat, pushed back off his face, and his tank clings damp to his chest. His breath still shudders out from the exertion, although she can tell he’s trying not to let it show.

 _‘It’s just…’_ Luna says. There’s something to her tone that gives Crowe pause — something a little mischievous. _‘I went shopping today, and I thought you might like a little fashion show.’_

Crowe’s smirking when Pelna takes a swing at her. He’s leading with the leg she landed a pretty nasty hit on earlier, so while he’s compensating for the injury she uses her foot to trip him.

He lands with a satisfying _thud._

‘Well,’ she replies. ‘I don’t know that I can get away until later, but you can fill me in for now.’

There’s a petulant sigh on the other end of the call. Crowe can almost see the pout on Luna’s mouth.

 _‘I’d really hoped to show you in person,’_ Luna says with feigned resignation. _‘I_ suppose _I could describe it, though.’_

Crowe feels her eyebrow shoot up with interest. Thankfully Pelna’s still picking himself up off the floor, so he doesn’t see.

‘I’m listening,’ she says.

_‘White lace. Suspenders. Tied at the thigh with ribbons that I’d like to see you undo with your teeth.’_

Pelna looks like he’s faltering, but Crowe’s attention is split. When Pelna dances about on his feet in front of her, waiting for her to make her move, she throws a half-hearted punch.

‘I think that could be arranged,’ she says. ‘Are you free right now? We could work out the details.’

 _‘I’m on the bed,’_ Luna says. _‘I’m tracing my fingers up my thigh, wishing you here.’_

It’s hard not to picture it — and that’s not such a bad thing. Crowe tries to keep her focus on Pelna, matching his footwork, while she feels a jolt between her leg in response to Luna’s words.

_‘I’m already wet…’_

‘Don’t—’ Crowe blurts.

She sees confusion register on Pelna’s face; with a meek little smile by way of an apology, she waves him off.

‘You know I love rushing into things head first,’ she says, ‘but sometimes you gotta resist the urge.’

 _‘Are you telling me I’m not allowed to touch myself?’_ Luna says. There’s amusement in her tone; a soft chuckle to chase her words. _‘I do so love when you order me around. Perhaps… Perhaps I could start with my breasts, instead?’_

That jolt is back — that feeling of sparks, running from Crowe’s very core. She has to press her thighs together, just subtly, to curb the need rushing through her.

‘That’s a good idea,’ she says.

She marvels at her own restraint, at the coolness of her tone — it’s downright bored, even.

 _‘Your wish is my command,’_ Luna says.

Just over the soft padding of their sneakers on the training room floor, and the panting of her breath, Crowe can hear the subtle sound of fabric sliding down skin. Luna must be holding the phone up so she can hear it.

 _‘Do you want me to tease them?’_ Luna says, after a pause.

Poor Pelna seems oblivious, even as Crowe can’t help but bite her lip.

‘I think you can afford to be bold at times like this,’ Crowe says, as she manages to connect a punch with Pelna’s shoulder. ‘You know what _I’d_ do.’

_‘Ah, of course… Then I’ll be rough, shall I? Imagine it’s your teeth?’_

There’s a soft moan so breathy, so full of need, that for a moment Crowe’s mind goes blank. She can picture it clearly — Luna, fingers twisting at her nipple, her face contorted in pleasure. She feels wetness flood between her thighs and it takes sheer force of will to draw her mind back to the moment enough to parry a strike from Pelna.

‘I think that works,’ she says, barely able to keep her voice level any more. ‘Maybe while you have one team working on that, you could have another following things up elsewhere?’

Pelna’s fist whistles past her ear and she almost misses Luna’s delicate peal of laughter.

 _‘Oh dear,’_ Luna says. _‘Finding it a little difficult to be patient? You want me to touch myself after all, then?’_

‘Sure,’ Crowe says. ‘But be subtle about it. Try to keep on this side of the divide, if you know what I mean.’

_‘Through my knickers?’_

‘Uh-huh.’

 _‘They’re drenched,’_ Luna says.

Crowe can’t help but smirk.

_Yeah, well they’ve got that in common with mine._

‘You can sample the merchandise, right?’ she says casually. ‘Get a taste of it for yourself?’

There’s another moan over the line, and this one is deeper — a little more showy, although it sends a shiver right through Crowe. Her heart is thudding so hard she’s almost sure Pelna could see it through the sweat-damp material of her shirt if he bothered to look.

Crowe’s calf hits something hard and unyielding; it takes her a moment to realise it’s one of the benches at the edge of the room. She hadn’t realised Pelna had been backing her up, steadily hemming her in.

 _‘It tastes so good,’_ Luna says. _‘And it’s all for you…’_

Crowe sees a smirk cross Pelna’s lips — the next thing she sees is his fist, headed straight for her face.

The world goes dark as pain explodes through her head. It was a solid hit, but nothing near Pelna’s full potential. He was holding back.

Still, she buckles and hits the bench behind her, hand flying up to cover her face.

‘Shit,’ she mutters.

_‘Crowe? Is everything all right?’_

Wincing, Crowe touches her mouth; her fingers come away bloody. There’s a cut on her bottom lip, and it’s already starting to swell.

‘Yeah,’ she says, grimacing. ‘Just wasn’t paying attention.’

_‘Do you want to stop?’_

Crowe sighs and looks again at the crimson staining her fingertips. She _had_ hoped to put Pelna in his place, but after that suckerpunch she’s not so sure her head is in the game.

‘Nah,’ she says. ‘I’m done here. I’ll call you back in a minute.’

Pelna pumps a fist with a sharp _whoop!_ of victory. It’s sickening; Crowe can’t help but roll her eyes.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she mutters. ‘Just don’t get too cocky.’

She gathers up her things in something of a huff. She hates to lose.

Pelna hums to himself while he gets ready and passes by as he goes.

‘Tell Lady Lunafreya I said hi,’ he says, with a knowing grin.

That little shit. He knew all along.

‘Give _Gladiolus_ a kiss from me,’ she retorts.

It’s tempting to call Luna right back, but it’s too risky — anybody else could choose this training room out of all the others. Instead she takes a moment to calm herself down, makes sure she has everything packed, blots at the blood on her lip and sets off.

The walk to the women’s locker room seems to take entirely too long; by the time she gets there and shuts the door behind her she’s aching.

‘Sorry, baby,’ she says, when the call connects. ‘Pelna caught me off-guard.’

_‘Are you hurt?’_

‘Nothing too serious,’ Crowe says, slipping into one of the shower stalls. ‘Where were we?’

_‘I believe I was telling you how good I taste.’_

Crowe blows out a breath.

‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘That.’

_‘And you were going to tell me exactly what you’d like me to do…’_

‘Keep your hand on your breast,’ Crowe says. ‘Twist until it almost hurts.’

There’s a little gasp from Luna. Crowe backs up against the wall, all but falling into it.

‘Move your other hand down, baby. Stroke yourself through your panties. Tell me how it feels.’

_‘Oh, Crowe… It’s so good…’_

‘Yeah?’ Crowe says. ‘Bet you wish your panties weren’t in the way, huh?’

Her hand moves down, almost of its own accord, to unbuckle her belt.

_‘I’d rather you were here to take them off for me…’_

‘Slip your hand under them,’ Crowe orders. ‘But don’t touch your clit. Tease yourself.’

She knows Luna is obeying once she hears Luna’s breathing pick up.

‘If I was there right now,’ Crowe says, unzipping her pants and edging them down her hips, ‘I’d have my mouth between your thighs. Touch your clit, baby.’

There’s a gasp over the line — needy and desperate. Crowe can barely drop her pants fast enough.

_‘Are you touching yourself?’_

‘Soon, baby,’ Crowe promises. ‘Take off your panties. _Slowly._ ’

 _‘Why does everything have to be_ slow _?’_ Luna protests.

‘Do what you’re told,’ Crowe says.

She listens to the whisper of fabric on skin; there’s silence for a moment, then Luna’s breath comes over the line once more, ragged and uneven.

‘Keep touching yourself,’ Crowe says. ‘And use your other hand, too. I want you to fuck yourself.’

_‘Just one second…’_

Crowe waits; the line goes quiet for a while until she’s starting to wonder if Luna’s even there any more, and then the notification sound rings out on her phone.

There’s a new message — a picture. When she opens it, it’s a shot from Luna’s perspective.

At the bottom of the shot are Luna’s perfect, pert breasts, the pale pink of her nipples just visible through the lace of her bra. Crowe’s eyes drink the image in, hungrily; she tracks upward, across Luna’s flat stomach, to where Luna’s legs are parted. Her fingers are poised just beyond the soft curls of hair there and—

Crowe groans with need. She can see how wet Luna is, where it glistens on her fingers.

‘Fuck,’ she says. ‘You fucking yourself yet?’

Luna’s answer is breathless, just one word.

_‘Yes…’_

‘Gods, Luna,’ Crowe blurts. ‘You’re killing me here.’

She shoves her hand beneath the band of her underwear — no need for teasing, not when she’s already so turned on. She rolls her clit under the pad of her middle finger, barely bothering to restrain her breathing.

 _‘Crowe,’_ Luna says, her voice hitching. _‘Are you touching yourself too?’_

‘You’re kidding, right?’ Crowe growls. ‘With the show you’re putting on? How could I not.’

She dips her finger down, getting it slick, and she’s just about to pick up her earlier rhythm when she hears Luna give a whine of pure need.

‘Stop touching yourself,’ she says suddenly.

_‘But Crowe…’_

‘No complaining,’ she says. ‘No touching, and stay right where you are. Got it?’

* * *

 

Her hair is still wet from the shower when she slips past the guards with a curt nod. Nobody questions why she shows up at the Oracle’s apartments at the Citadel so often, or why she had her own key cut; their little affair is probably the Citadel’s worst-kept secret.

Once she’s through the door, she makes a beeline for the bedroom.

Luna is, more often than not, a bratty sub — so it’s a pleasant treat to find her lying on the bed with her thighs pressed demurely together, her hands gripping the sheets.

It takes every ounce of willpower for Crowe not to march over, push her legs apart and dip her tongue into the wetness she knows she’ll find there; instead she carefully sets her gym bag aside and takes her time. She loosens the laces of her boots, plucking them free bit by bit until she can pull them off.

She can see Luna sitting up on the bed to watch her, so she draws it out — pretends to fuss a little with the zipper on her leather jacket until she gets it free, then goes to great pains to make sure she hangs it up diligently in the wardrobe.

She turns toward the bed. Luna’s propped herself up on her elbows, and her knees are pulled up; through the gap between her slender ankles, Crowe gets a perfect view of what she rushed here for.

She licks her lips. This whole _drawing it out_ thing was supposed to tease Luna, not _her._

‘Are you going to come over here?’ Luna asks, cocking her head innocently.

Gods, Crowe would love to kiss that little smirk from her lips.

‘Debating on it,’ Crowe replies airly.

She takes a step forward, thumbing her belt. She weighs it up — how much better it would be to tease them both awhile longer, to drag it out until neither of them could stand it any more.

Slowly, Luna moves her legs apart.

‘Screw this,’ Crowe mutters.

While Luna laughs sweetly, Crowe tugs open her belt and yanks her pants down her hips. She wriggles out of them as she goes, barely stopping to kick them off before she climbs onto the bed.

She crawls upwards, between Luna’s hips; plants a hand on her chest and pushes her, gently but insistently, until she lies back. Crowe feels Luna’s legs slip around her, tightening against her sides.

‘You were remarkably well-restrained over the phone,’ Luna says.

Crowe scoffs.

‘Yeah, maybe,’ she says. ‘Pretty sure Pelna had it figured out.’

Talking isn’t so good; it pulls at the cut on her lip and she brings her hand up to check it, wincing. For the first time, Luna notices it and her brow furrows in worry.

‘Oh, Crowe,’ she says, lifting her hand to cup Crowe’s chin. ‘Are you all right?’

Crowe smirks and covers Luna’s hand with her own.

‘Will be,’ she replies. ‘Gonna kiss it better for me?’

Luna rolls her eyes, but of course she obliges — she pulls Crowe down, letting their lips brush gently, and it’s so infuriatingly tender that Crowe could scream.

But then Luna isn’t _that_ cruel; she slips her hand down Crowe’s neck, brushes it over the swell of her breast, glides down the curve of her waist. It meets bare skin at the point where Crowe’s tank top has ridden up, prompting a trail of gooseflesh wherever her fingers trace.

Crowe shivers, and she feels Luna’s lips twist into a smirk against her own.

With a little bit of wriggling, Crowe gets down low between Luna’s thighs, ‘til she can feel the wetness of her through her own panties. It’s tantalising, being so close; she knows she could twist her leg just a little, could hitch her hips up just so, and she’d be right there up against her lover — but the teasing is half the fun, right?

That’s the theory, at least.

It all comes undone when Luna nips at Crowe’s bottom lip, mindful of the cut, and Crowe can’t quite help but let out a feral growl. Pulling back, she takes each of Luna’s wrists and tugs at them until they’re pinned above her head. She grips them there in one strong hand as she nudges Luna’s legs apart with her knee.

‘You want me to touch you, baby?’ Crowe purrs.

Luna nods, her blue eyes wide.

Crowe hovers over Luna, guiding a hand between them; brushes the flat of her hand over the soft hair between Luna’s thighs, then further down until her fingers can dip into Luna’s wetness. She brings her hand back up and pops her fingers into her mouth, taking the time to savour the taste — and when she’s done she leans in close to Luna to let her taste herself off her tongue, too.

Her hand moves back down, finding Luna’s clit; gives it a playful flick to prompt an indignant sound from Luna, then makes her next touch more slow and languorous. When Luna relaxes under her, Crowe guides her hand down further and slips her fingers inside, curling them to the shape of Luna’s sex.

They’ve tried it so many ways, but it always seems to come back to this — Crowe on top, Luna giving in beneath her. The Oracle the public sees is elegant and dignified; it’s so _sweet_ to make her unravel between the sheets.

Luna moves her leg further aside, to give Crowe a better angle — her fingers go deeper, and she uses the pad of her thumb to roll over Luna’s clit. Once Luna’s twitching, once she’s writhing against the mattress, Crowe edges down the bed and lets her tongue take over.

She’s barely let go of Luna’s wrists before Luna brings her hand down, knotting it through Crowe’s hair. Her hips are already bucking like she’s ready to tip over the edge, but before she can get that far Crowe slows down, lapping her tongue lazily against Luna’s clit to bring her back down.

‘Don’t stop,’ Luna protests with a whine.

Crowe sits up, wiping at her face with a wry grin.

‘You don’t think I’d let you get there without me, do you?’

Her own panties are an inconvenience easily dealt with; once they’ve been tossed aside, she gently angles Luna’s leg into position and climbs astride it, lowering herself until she can feel the brush of her lover’s sex against her own. Even this is enough to elicit a little gasp from Luna.

‘Did that feel good, baby?’ she murmurs.

Luna nods eagerly.

Propping herself in position with one hand, Crowe uses the other to guide Luna’s hips against her own. She rolls against Luna, watching her cheeks steadily turn red from the contact, her eyelashes fluttering from the effort of trying to maintain her composure.

Crowe leans down, her lips finding Luna’s throat — mouthing over the warm flesh where Luna’s pulse thrums beneath. She nibbles at her neck, then bites a little harder until she feels Luna jerk up against her, gasping with pleasure.

‘ _Crowe,_ ’ Luna whines.

‘Is this good, baby?’ Crowe purrs, nipping at Luna’s earlobe.

Luna gives a frantic little nod.

‘Would you like to _come,_ baby?’

Another nod and, once Crowe slips her hand between them, a groan that says more than words ever could.

Crowe’s hand is clumsy — urgent. She can feel her own climax building from the friction alone but she focuses on Luna, responding to her cues as she twitches and writhes. When she can feel Luna spool up beneath her, ready for her release, she moves her hand to Luna’s thigh and lets her hips take over, rolling and grinding until Luna’s voice is at her ear, sweet and desperate—

‘ _Please,_ Crowe, _please!_ ’

Luna gets there first, words failing her as she mouths frantic nothings into Crowe’s shoulder. She’s barely ridden out her climax when Crowe tumbles over the edge after her, the bucking of her hips becoming erratic as her body loses control.

She wilts as it dies down, sinking onto Luna; Luna’s arms wrap around her, languid and warm, and smooth lovingly down her spine.

For a while it seems they’re fit for little more than lying there, a tangle of limbs — when Crowe finally works up the energy to move, she separates stickily from her lover and settles down in the crook of her arm, resting her head against Luna’s chest.

‘I could get used to this,’ Crowe says with a sigh.

Luna’s playing with Crowe’s hair; idly, she loops a strand of it around her finger and pulls it free again.

‘What, the sex?’ Luna says.

Crowe chuckles.

‘No. The cuddling after.’

Luna sits up, dislodging her.

Crowe gives a whine of protest and opens her eyes, looking up to find the Oracle staring down at her intently.

‘I thought you said you didn’t _do_ cuddling,’ Luna says, prodding her in the chest through the sweat-damp fabric of her tank top.

Crowe shrugs, playing it coy — which is pretty pointless, considering Luna can see right through her.

‘I can make an exception for you.’

**Author's Note:**

> [main tumblr](http://theorchardofbones.tumblr.com) | [ffxv sideblog](http://harshmallowffxv.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/ghostmallovv)


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